


Dance Alone To The Beat of Your Heart

by an_altoids_tin_of_wonders



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Bottom!Scott, Forgive Me, GBF!Vincent, M/M, Pastel!Scott, Pike-Freeform, god im trash for this ship, our lord and savior scott cawthon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_altoids_tin_of_wonders/pseuds/an_altoids_tin_of_wonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott has a fondness for the pastel subculture.<br/>Mike doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Alone To The Beat of Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> what do I even do with titles anymore they're all song lyrics   
> tell me the song in the comments and you'll win a prize
> 
> As usual, credit to TWDnSlenderverseFangirl for the prompt, it seems like every other one of either of our fics is thanking the other for ideas

"I'm never fucking you again if you buy any of that, I hope you're aware."  
"Shut up, you think it's cute."  
"Do you even listen to me?"   
"Not often." Scott was sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop, scrolling through Etsy, looking at cute pastel sweaters and Lolita suits and flipping back to the Manic Panic website tab to look at pink hairdye every few minutes. Mike was next to him, supposedly answering emails, although Scott had seen his Tumblr dashboard out of the corner of his eye.  
"Mike, where's my... there we go."  
He found his credit card after a moment of digging through the bills and letters from their parents on the table and paid for everything he had been looking at without a second thought.  
"Do you want dinner? I'll cook for once."  
Scott shut his laptop and stood up, trying not to smile like an idiot because he was going to have cute pastel clothes for the first time ever. 

"Yeah, thanks. So you ordered everything?"  
"And paid five bucks for express shipping."  
"You better order some damn nice dildoes too, just sayin'."  
Scott rolled his eyes. He texted Vincent and set up plans with the day his stuff was supposed to arrive and asked him if he could convince Jeremy to hang out with Mike the same day.   
\---  
Two days later, Scott stood on the porch flailing like a fucking fangirl before running inside and veloceraptor-esque ripping at the packages. He picked up his phone and called the second number on speed dial. "Vince, get your ass over here. Now."  
Which he did, and not much later Scott was sitting in his and Mike's bathroom while Vincent explained to him the miracle that is hair dye. That, and catching him up on all the work gossip he had missed when he and Mike took off to go to a convention a week before.  
"And apparently Angela from HR and Tom are having a thing, according to Becky in accounting."  
"Isn't Angela married?"  
"Yeah, I never thought Tom of all people. Alright, so your hair's done, just wash it and you'll be good."  
"Thanks!"   
Scott washed his hair in the sink, he was far too eager to see it to actually shower, and when he was done, he stood and stared at his reflection for a full minute, maybe more, his thoughts wandering.

_His father slamming the door. His mother's quiet pleads for him to quiet down silenced by his yells. "I don't want a damn faggot for a son! He's gonna be normal, goddamit!" The throbbing pain in his cheek. He could taste blood. His t shirt sleeves were soaked with his attempts to stop the tears.  
All because he had said he wanted the girls' shirt, the pink one, at the store. _

He had since learned that his father was an asshole, and there was an entire subculture of enjoying pastel colors and cute things. He had always been too afraid, or too broke, or too under his parents' roof to actually buy any nice pastel stuff, but as of today he was none of those things.  
Years of blogging had brought him confidence.   
He went through the box of new stuff (he had shooed Vince out to let him change and wash his hair; he wanted his new look to be a sort of surprise) until he found a pair of jeans that now matched his light pink beautiful hair, and a cute mint green sweater with a jellyfish on it.  
And a light blue flower crown. What's pastel subculture without the fucking flower crowns? Absolutely nothing, that's what.  
He opened the door and his friend looked like he was about to cry as he pulled him into a hug. Vincent was one of his oldest friends, and the only one who knew all the reasons and backstory as to why he wasn't super comfortable with his style and himself.  
"Do you think Mike's gonna like it?"  
"Screw him if he doesn't. And if he does, well, he'll screw you. Because, damn son, you look great."  
Scott laughed at the stupid joke, some of his nerves fading. Mike loved him. That wouldn't change because he was finally reflecting his style.  
"But... If you're really nervous, Jere and I can hang out over here for bit."  
"Sure."  
\---  
Mike and Jeremy arrived less than an hour later from a baseball game to Vince and Scott watching Supernatural.  
"Hey guys!" Vince's voice was almost overly bright but his smile was genuine.  
"Hey Mike, Jere." Mike's intention of teasing Scott about the clothes went out the window when he finally saw him in them, replaced by the thought of what his pink hair would look like with Mike's fingers tangled in it, and how he wanted to rip those fucking clothes off him because it wasn't fair at all, how good he looked in them.  
As such, dinner with him and Jeremy and Vince wasn't unpleasant as much as it was uncomfortable. Ever tried to have dinner with some of your best friends while all you can think about is literally fucking your boyfriend? No?  
It's not fun.  
The actual second they were out the door, Mike pinned Scott against the wall and slammed their lips together.  
"I take it you like the clothes then?" He panted when they broke apart, grinning.  
"I think I'd prefer them off you, but yeah, I like 'em."  
Scott couldn't believe he had waited this long to fufill his asthestic.


End file.
